Category Archives: Romance

Resolution

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to “The Christmas Dance,” a story I wrote and posted back in December. Like that story, this one was inspired by a writing prompt from one of my writers’ group, which was to write a sequel story. I enjoyed it so much, I think I might do a series of 1,000-1,500 word stories about this young couple celebrating different holidays over the course of a year. Perhaps it’ll end with them getting engaged the next Christmas. ;P Anyway, enjoy this entry!

Resolution
By Nathan Marchand

“Welcome to the New Year’s Eve Bash in Central Park!” booms the emcee over the microphone. The crowd surrounding the stage cheers. I’m always amazed at how the local parks and recreation department finds ways to emulate New York City’s holiday celebrations just because our little city also has a “Central Park.” This year they have a stage with a giant screen showing Dick Clark’s famous giant disco ball.

They’ve outdone themselves, I think. Almost as much as I did last week with Kara.

Kara. My…”almost-girlfriend”?

I hadn’t seen her since she gave me her number at the Christmas dance. The holidays are busy for both of us. But we’d talked on the phone and texted almost every day since. It was her suggestion we come to this event. We were to meet at the park office to rent some ice skates at 8 p.m.

I’d just arrived—at 8:05 p.m.

It’s cold enough for snow, but none falls. I pull my sock cap an inch lower over my frozen ears. The crowd is thick, but I push my way through it wishing I could part this sea of humanity like Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments. I say, “Excuse me,” more times in the next two minutes than I have in half of my life.

I cut through the last of the throng, emerging triumphant.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Goodwill!”

My heart jumps into my throat when I hear that.

“I swear you’re stalking me, Jimmy,” I retort as I look to my left.

There stands my old rival clad in a three-hundred-dollar coat and with a giggling blonde on his arm. He looks as smug as ever.

“No, I’m just Sir Fate’s little way of putting you in your place.” The blonde giggles more.

“Whatever. I have better things to do,” I say, smirking before I let him have it. “Like a date with Kara.”

Jimmy scowls. The blonde glares at him.

I look away and start walking toward the park office, but Jimmy shouts his parting shot: “She’ll be disappointed at midnight when she learns you resolve every year to kiss a girl because you never have!”

I stop dead, feeling like I’ve been hit in the back with an arrow. He laughs at me. I huff and walk on.

It’s not long before I see Kara, the prettiest girl in town, standing at the back of the line for skate rental. She’s wearing a bright blue wool coat with matching leather boots. Her red-gold hair braid hangs out of her hood across her collar bone. Before I can call her name, she waves at me with a gloved hand.

My heart jumps back into my throat.

“I’m so glad you made it, Ethan,” she says when I join her in line. “Even if you are a little late.” Her smile is as radiant as the sun.

“Yeah…sorry. I…ran into someone I used to know.”

Her smile flips. “You mean Jimmy?”

Hesitantly, I nod.

“Ignore him. He’s just jealous.”

“I’m sure.”

Within ten minutes, we get our skates and head to the frozen pond. Dozens of couples, some of whom we saw dancing last week, look graceful circling hand-in-hand around the ice. Kara and I sit on a park bench to put on our skates. She laughs when I pull off one of my shoes and reveal the Superman socks underneath. I blush.

“No, no! I think they’re cute,” she says, seeing my embarrassment. “Besides, I used to watch Lois and Clark as a kid. It made me want to read comics, but I always got geek-shamed when I walked into a comic shop, so I never read any.”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

Her smile brightened. “Don’t be. One of my New Year’s Resolutions is to start reading comics.” She finishes lacing up her skates. “What about you? Any resolutions?”

I bite my lower lip. “Not…really.” I grab her hand to distract her. “Let’s go!” I say, motioning toward the ice. She beams, and we hurry out. Her jacket’s hood flies off, unveiling her beautiful hair.

Now I wish I could kiss her.

The next few hours are a blissful blur. I hadn’t skated since I played junior hockey in middle school, but it was like riding a bike. A few times I had trouble stopping, but I didn’t fall. Kara, on the other hand, despite being a great ballroom dancer, wasn’t as surefooted on the ice. She held my hand for dear life. Well, for balance, anyway. One time, though, she started to fall, but I caught her. “My hero,” she called me. I’ve never felt such awkward excitement.

“I need a quick break,” I tell her.

“Okay. I can take a few solo laps. But don’t be long!” she says, winking.

My heart thunders in my ears.

I skate to the edge of the pond and sit on a bench. My calves are burning, but I don’t care. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. Kara waves at me as she skates by, nearly losing her balance. I snicker, admiring her bravery.

“Only fifteen minutes until midnight!” booms the emcee over the microphone on the stage. “Have your sweethearts ready to kiss when the ball drops!”

Suddenly Jimmy and the blonde appear in front of me, pretending they’re oblivious to my presence.

“Why wait until midnight for a kiss?” the jerk says to the poor girl.

Before she can reply, he grabs her, dips her like a professional dancer, and plants a long-lasting lip-lock on her. I look away like a grossed out schoolboy. They finally come up for air and walk away, Jimmy laughing the entire time. I feel like throwing up.

“Ethan!” calls Kara.

I look up and see her sliding by, so I spring to my feet and jump onto the ice. It doesn’t take me long to catch up and grab her hand.

Minutes later, everyone stops. 11:59 has come too soon. We all turn our attention to screen above the stage. Dick Clark is rattling off numbers.

“It’s the final countdown!” someone belts out, adding a terrible impersonation of the song’s guitar riff.

I glance at Kara. Her eyes practically sparkle. She smiles knowingly, expectantly, at me. My stomach is turning in knots like it did last week. Does she want me to kiss her?

“Thirty!” the crowd cries in unison with Dick Clark.

I should—no, I can’t. I’ll just disappoint her. I can’t start her New Year like that.

“Twenty!” cries the crowd.

But I want to impress her, to make her happy. But should I be that forward? It’s only a first date!

“Ten, nine, eight,” begins the crowd.

Kara wraps her arms around my neck and her jade eyes look deep into mine. I’m breathless.

“…five, four, three…”

I blink. My head hangs.

The crowd screams, “Happy New Year!” Noise and confetti fill the air.

Shame stabs me with a knife. I unclasp Kara’s arms and skate away as fast as my tired legs can carry me, not stopping until I reach an isolated bench. I flop onto it and bury my face in my hands. My tears are barely kept dammed.

You’re a coward, Ethan, just like Jimmy thought you were, I think. Your first date with her will be your last.

But just as I’m about to drown in a sea of self-pity, a soft hand squeezes my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” says that wonderfully lyrical voice.

I glance up and see Kara sitting next to me.

May as well come clean. You owe her that, I think.

“I thought you wanted me to kiss you at midnight. I wanted to, but…I just…couldn’t. I’m sorry, Kara. I ruined everything.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

I look away. “Because…I…I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

I brace myself for her to leave.

After ten seconds of silence, she’s still here.

Her warm fingers touch my chin. She lifts and turns my head toward her, unhanding it when our eyes meet. “You didn’t have to kiss me if you weren’t ready. I wouldn’t have been disappointed.” She snickers. “Honestly, I might’ve been weirded out. It’s jerks like Jimmy who pull numbers like that, and I know you’re better than that.”

“So, you’re not upset?”

Kara sighs, rolling her eyes. “No, silly!”

My hand touches hers on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

She just smiles.

“Tell you what,” she says. “I’m exhausted from all that ice skating, so how about you escort me home and we talk about this tomorrow over lunch?”

“Deal!”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

Kara presses two fingers against her puckered lips and then places those fingers on my cheek. I feel it burn.

“A preview of things to come,” she says.

I sigh to fight back tears. Then I reciprocate.

The Christmas Dance

(Author’s note: I haven’t been posting much this month. It is December, after all, and I’ve been busy with the holidays. Regardless, I couldn’t let the season pass by without giving all of you, True Believers, a little gift. So, here’s a Christmas-themed flash fiction for your enjoyment. As you can see, I can write things other than weird speculative fiction. 😛 Merry Christmas!)

The Christmas Dance
By Nathan Marchand

I can’t believe I’m here, I tell myself as I enter the natural history museum’s doors.

A rambunctious crowd of well-dressed people flows through the entry with me. Some of the guys are wearing Santa hats that clash with their fancy suits. “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” belts from the huge speakers at the center of the makeshift dance floor under the full-sized whale skeleton suspended from the high ceiling. With deer-like grace, a few couples are already practicing their dance moves. The smell of cookies and hot cocoa is in the air.

I should be with family, not at some…gala, ball, whatever, on Christmas Eve!

Seeing the practicing couples reminds me why I hesitated to come. I’ve only been dancing for a few months and only knew a few styles, some of which I got mixed up, much to my embarrassment. Worst of all, I didn’t have a steady partner.

My stomach ties itself in a knot as I hit an invisible wall. I start to turn back—when I see my reason for coming.

Kara.

She stands at the edge of the dance floor about twenty feet away. Her long strawberry blonde hair hangs over her shoulder in an intricate braid. Her holly-green dress hugs all the right curves of her petite figure while its knee-length skirt all but demands to twirl. White open-toe shoes make her look an inch or two taller and as poised as ever.

She turns and sees me.

My face burns.

She waves at me.

My feet are too heavy to run.

Suddenly, someone brushes me aside as he walks past, jolting me from the trance.

“Nice suit, Ethan!” scoffs a familiar voice. “Where’d you get it? Goodwill?”

I glance back and see Jimmy snickering at me. He’s wearing a black suit and tie that probably cost more than my car. I can’t believe I used to be friends with that jerk. As usual, seeing him leaves me torn between running away and punching him. He smirks at this and starts mingling with the girls.

He always has to rub in what a charmer he is.

The emcee welcomes everyone and plays “Jingle Bell Rock.” I look for Kara, but she’s already on the floor with another guy. It never fails. She’s popular at ballroom dance parties.

I sigh as I lean back against the wall. Jimmy runs by me, leading some poor girl—the first of his many conquests, I assume—by the hand onto the floor. He smirks at me again as they partner-up. I feel like I’ve been stabbed.

The night wears on. I dance with a few girls, but they never seem excited to be with me. Is it because I’m a novice or ugly? Or an ugly novice? I look for Kara after each song, but no sooner does she step off the floor does another guy ask her to dance. Even the Flash wouldn’t be fast enough to catch her! All the while, Jimmy goes from one girl to next, charming them onto the floor. He dances as smoothly as he talks. The entire night I’m never sure if I’m red with anger or green with envy.

I look at my watch. Only ten minutes left. Another song starts playing. Where’s Kara?

I glance over my shoulder and see her standing by herself at the food table, sipping cocoa.

I take a deep breath to steel my nerves. It’s now or never.

I cut through the crowd. She sees me coming and grins. I swallow hard and keep walking. She puts her cup on the table and folds her hands as I approach.

I suddenly find myself within arm’s reach of her. I can smell her lavender perfume. Her emerald eyes meet mine.

“Kara…”

“Yes?”

Jimmy swoops in, grabs Kara’s hand, and leads her away, saying, “Let’s dance!”

Just like that, she’s gone.

I look back at the dance floor. Kara is looking over Jimmy’s shoulder as they foxtrot to “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” (Am I the only one who thinks that song is kinda creepy?). Kara smiles awkwardly, her eyes pleading for a rescue.

Clenching my fists, I turn to leave.

I stop.

“No,” I say to myself. “I won’t let that punk steal another girl from me!”

With newfound courage swelling in my chest, I storm onto the dance floor and march toward them, maneuvering between couples. I tap Jimmy on the shoulder. He glares at me, but I don’t care.

“May I cut in?”

Before he can say, “No,” Kara jumps from his arms and into mine.

Instinctively, we start foxtrotting.

A few seconds later, my courage wanes as I realize I’m dancing with the prettiest girl in the room. My palms are so sweaty, I fear my hands will slip from Kara’s grasp.

The song ends. My arms fall out of frame. “Th-thanks.”

I drop my gaze and step away—but Kara grabs my arm.

“This is the last song,” she says, “and I owe you a full dance.”

I shove the words out: “Uh…sure.”

She beams.

I’m breathless.

“All I want for Christmas is You” starts playing. We swing dance to it. I’m so flabbergasted, I can barely do the basic steps and only remember to let Kara turn a few times. Her billowing skirt looks like a blossoming flower each time. She never stops smiling.

The song ends all too soon.

“Thank you for the dance,” Kara says.

I nod. Then I sigh and walk away. The fantasy is over. The clock’s striking midnight.

“Wait!” calls Kara.

I glance back as she rushes toward me. My stomach twists so much, it looks like her hair braid.

“I have a gift for you,” she says, reaching into her dress and producing a card. She takes my hand, puts the card in it, and folds my fingers onto it. “Merry Christmas!” she adds, gazing at me for several long seconds.

She walks past me.

I’m a frozen statue as people clear the floor, but eventually I look at the card.

It’s her phone number!

I turn around just in time to see Kara walk off the floor and wink at me.

My mouth curls into a smile.

I know what I’m doing for New Year’s Eve.

Love and Pac-Man

Love and Pac-Man
By Nathan Marchand

“I don’t wanna be here, Joey!” cried my blonde eight-year-old sister, Kay. “I wanna ride the Wild Mouse!”

I tightened my grip on her tiny hand as we walked to Adventureland’s arcade, Tilt. The stares we were getting from parents and their kids were palpable. I smiled awkwardly at some passersby and then turned my attention to Kay. “Don’t worry. We’ll ride it soon. I just want to play some of the games in here, okay? I promise I’ll buy you a stuffed Black Beauty with the tickets I win.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Pinky swear!” My sister held up her mouse-tail of a pinky.

I wrapped my, by comparison, python-like pinky around hers and swore my oath.

Instantly, Kay smiled, and said, “Okay!” With that, she released my hand and ran through the door into Tilt.

I shook my head and sighed. Maybe I was better off spending my Friday night working on my old laptop or reading a C.S. Lewis book. But someone has to watch her while Mom and Dad are out on their “date night.” That thought felt like a knife through the heart. I wish I had a date tonight. I harrumphed. At least in our tiny rural town we have a half-decent little theme park to go to. I can enjoy a bit of the hot weather this summer before I go back to college.

I pushed open the door and was greeted by a rainbow of flashing neon signs, the smell of pizza, the screaming laughter of children, musty air, and the cacophony of Donkey Kong, Street Fighter, and Mario Bros. Shouting over it was the song “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, which was blaring from the jukebox. It brought back happy childhood memories.

“Hi-ho, Silver, away!”

I looked to my right and saw a giggling Kay straddling a Lone Ranger-themed coin-operated horse ride sitting next to a Pac-Man machine.

“How’d you get that to work?” I asked.

“I found a quarter on the floor,” replied Kay, smiling coyly.

I rolled my eyes. A few seconds later, the horse stopped, and I lifted Kay off “Silver” and onto the floor. I crouched to make eye contact. “What poor boy did you charm into giving you his hard-earned money?”

Kay hung her head and wrung her hands, wearing her trademark “pouty face.”

“Spit it out, Sissy.”

Hesitantly, she pointed behind me and said, “That one.”

I looked over my shoulder. There, standing between an animatronic Abraham Lincoln and a Gunpowder arcade machine was a little brown-haired boy about her age wearing a Quickdraw McGraw T-shirt—and he was holding the hand of Sue Preor!

I gulped. My sister had just swindled money from my high school crush’s little brother!